


Long-Bottom Leaf

by GhostJ



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger
Genre: Crossover, Fluff, Gen, Insanity, M/M, No basis on What?!, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostJ/pseuds/GhostJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nossan wouldn’t need seconds to eat a second breakfast if it presented itself and he’d bet his last pipeweed that King has been too busy cementing his place as Prince Consort of Gondor to talk to anyone about anything of note, including the One Ring around his neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long-Bottom Leaf

**Author's Note:**

> Based solely on a random mention in one of [hakaseheart](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hakaseheart)’s tumblr prompts ([go check them out! Super cute!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1168735/chapters/2377526%22)) that clued me into the fact that my inexplicable love for Nossan is likely due to him being a Hobbit... (Don’t judge me people! Martin Freeman makes it ok.) That got me thinking about how closely Kyoryuger matches LoTR and then this happened, although you could equally blame travel fatigue, I guess.
> 
> As always, a huge- HUGE thanks to my beta [MissMollyEtc](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMollyEtc) for the beta. She hasn't seen any of Kyoryuger, so sadly any mistakes / interpretations are still all mine and none of her fault or control.

_Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle._

Nossan sighed and patted his once ample belly as it growled, willing it to be quiet and again promising it all sorts of treats once they returned to the Shire. _If_ they returned to the Shire, since it really didn’t seem like anyone else was in any type of hurry to finish off their quest and he was counting down to Souji snapping soon and killing them all in their sleep, or at least kneecapping them. His stomach made another series of pathetic noises and he tried really hard to think about all the delicious things he would certainly give it, rather than more lembas, with a side of lembas, like jams and scones and that would only be the _first_ second breakfast! Oh, how he missed second breakfast...

“Hey Nossan,” King interrupted his hunger filled musings, calling back to the other Hobbit from his seat on the back of Amy’s charger, Dricera. “What are you thinking about? I’d bet your stomach is so loud, Deboss could hear you from Mordor!”

“That if I saw a bear, I’d eat him bare!” Nossan quipped, smiling as his joke made King laugh out loud. He’d been worried like anything about King, as the responsibility of the One Ring must weigh heavily on the younger Hobbit, although you’d not know it from his actions. But, if the fate of the world were dependant on one small person, well, Nossan could think of no person he’d trust more for the role. He just wished there was more he could do to help ease King’s burden beyond providing comic relief. That being said, he’d always known that King was destined for greatness beyond the borders of the Shire. Looking at him astride Dricera, with Amy walking along beside them leading Gabutyra - ostensibly to give Dricera a rest, although who King and Amy thought they were fooling when it was obvious how much they were enjoying the novelty of being the same height for a bit - King looked every inch of his name. In fact, judging by how things were progressing between those two, well, Nossan wouldn’t bet against King’s ‘demotion’ to Prince Consort, or His Royal Hobbitness, when Amy took her place as Queen of Gondor. It said a lot that they were overcoming their cultural differences so positively, especially when compared to their other companions.

“Come along then Boya, you’re keeping all the Zourima waiting walking so slow.”

It was all Nossan could do not to bury his face in Stegotchi ‘s mane to try to block out the scene that was undoubtedly unfolding behind him, again, as he heard Ian’s comment from where he was riding at the back of the train of horses. The elf’s voice was readily identifiable, both due to his slight accent and the teasing nature that seemed to imbue everything he said and did, and the response from the fellowship’s 5th member was as expected as lembas for lunch.

“Dwarves were made for fighting, not running,” growled Souji, and, indeed, if Nossan listened hard enough he could make out the stomping of Souji’s boots as he walked along beside his pony, Zakutor, who, unlike Dricera, could likely use the break provided. Not that Souji was overly large as dwarves went, but from Ian’s constant teasing and Souji’s own gritted admissions; it was clear that dwarves were not natural riders. Although Zakutor and Souji were a deadly combination in battle, it seemed to Nossan that both the horse and the rider were more comfortable walking alongside each other when given the opportunity.

But that was beside the fact, and seeing as how Souji was going to walk straight into the Orc’s maw, as it were, Nossan twisted in his saddle to watch the latest act in the ongoing saga that was Ian pulling on Souji’s beard. Which was as much as Nossan ever wanted to admit to knowing about Ian pulling on anything related to the young dwarf.

“We could go so much faster if you’d come up here and keep me company.” Ian drawled, patting the space in front of him on Parasagun’s saddle. Nossan was certain that if he could see the elf’s face, his smile would be set to ‘charming silver spoons from the Sackville-Bagginses’ as he looked down at Souji.

Nossan swore that even with all the noise from the horses, he could make out Souji’s teeth grinding together, and well imagined the dwarf’s fingers clutching the hilt of his sword in annoyance as he was wont to do. Nossan sighed in his own frustration at Souji’s predicament; the dwarf was the youngest of their party and seemed absolutely unsure of how to respond to Ian’s flirting beyond getting riled, which seemed only to egg the elf on. Privately, Nossan - and, based on hushed campfire conversations and some friendly betting, Amy and King - thought that Souji wanted to respond positively to Ian’s overtures. Not only had Souji yet to actually follow through with any of his threats against Ian’s person, but as the days passed he now seemed content to carve Ian’s name on small trees, ostensibly to practice his swordsmanship on. However, given that his ‘practice’ always left the elf’s name legible, Ian had taken to riding at the end of the train so he could carve large hearts with ‘ + Souji’ onto those trees as they passed, which would have been a problem if the fellowship had been at all concerned about the trail they were leaving.

“Ahh, I see you are out of breath from all your trudging along,” Ian continued, when Souji elected not to respond. He nudged his mount closer to the dwarf and said wheedlingly, “if you would but ride with me you’d quickly catch your breath. I know you are too embarrassed to reply to my kind offer, seeing as you would undoubtedly be huffing and puffing, so don’t feel that you have to, Boya.”

Nossan covered his eyes with one hand, but couldn’t stop himself from looking out between his fingers at the scene of carnage that would undoubtedly follow, as sure to his instincts, he watched as Ian, without so much as a ‘by your leave’ reached over and hoisted Souji up onto Parasagun’s back before either the dwarf or his pony could react. Not that that was an entirely new sight, but previously the elf had spent at least several minutes cajoling Souji to join him before the dwarf gave in.

“You put me down this instant, Elf!” Souji’s snarl of affronted rage could undoubtedly be heard even further than Nossan’s stomach. In response, Nossan dropped his hands to his reigns and prepared to pull Stegotchi back to help separate the two, or at least help with cleaning up Ian’s corpse as Souji reached for his sword. Ian’s ploy had been clever though and, rather than eviscerating his companion as he’d often threatened, Souji gasped as Parasagun stepped quickly to the left to avoid colliding with Zakutor and let go of his sword to grab onto the saddle’s pommel for support.

“See how quickly your breath returned to you?” Ian said smugly and Nossan watched unbelievingly as he pushed his luck further by wrapping an arm around Souji’s waist. The gesture could be taken as a means to help support the dwarf, but Nossan had his doubts as Parasagun’s movements, although erratic as she playfully dodged Zakutor all but nipping at her heels, seemed too well timed to be anything but collusion between the very experienced horse and rider. His suspicions were all but confirmed as Ian leaned forward and, putting his mouth beside Souji’s ear, said in a stage whisper “although I’m liable to take it away again just as quickly if you’ll let me.” Then he looked up, and catching sight of Nossan’s observation, gave the hobbit what could only be a very saucy wink over the dwarf’s head before turning back to the task at hand.

“Careful!” Ian crowed cheerfully as Souji again reached for his sword, and Parasagun ‘incidentally’ jerked to the right causing the dwarf to swear and clutch at Ian’s arm around his waist for support. Although his voice was still teasing, Ian’s broad smile was tinted with that something that made Nossan think his actions towards Souji weren’t solely for the sake of riling up the younger warrior. Not that it would have stopped any of them from interfering had any of them honestly thought Ian was taking things too far. However, as previously seen, with his objection audibly lodged, Souji seemed to resign himself to his new mount and as they pulled up closer to Nossan, was all but snuggling against Ian’s chest. In fact, were it not for the dark look the dwarf shot at him, Nossan would have said as much, but he felt it would be wise to give the dwarf a chance to blow off some steam against the Zourima who would undoubtedly attack them later that day before voicing his new joke about May-December romances.

With the entertainment over for the time being, Nossan turned back around and realised that he was now sandwiched between couples with no respite to be seen from here to Mordor. Further, unless his own fortunes were to change he was stuck as a spectator, since whatever else their partners might think, he was pretty sure Amy and Souji would murder him for stepping on their hair-less toes.

“Fellowship of the Wedding Rings is more like it!” He snorted, mostly for his own amusement as the others were so involved in each other they’d likely not notice him, even if he suddenly grew as tall as, as a man for instance. His annoyance was somewhat soothed by Stegochi’s cheerful whicker in response to his joke though, and at the unexpected, but not unprecedented, faint laughter sounding rather like a hollow bell ringing in the distance. He really must be hungrier than he thought if he was still hallucinating it after all these miles, he figured and quickly reached into his pocket to grab a snack. After all, if something had been following them this long and remained unseen, it was probably likely trying to kill them, not hanging around for his jokes, but, even if it was just his subconscious, it was nice to have someone appreciate his sense of humor.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you catch them all?
> 
> King - Frodo  
> Amy - Strider / Aragorn  
> Souji - Gimli  
> Ian - Legolas  
> Nossan - Sam  
> Candelilla - Nazgul
> 
> I still haven't decided what Ucchi would be... I honestly keep thinking of him being Gollum, but with less homicidal crazy...
> 
>  
> 
> **Comments and kudos are always appreciated! Indeed even on crack-fic!**


End file.
